Snakes and Lions

The Morning After

Afterwards, Harry did not remember much of the rest of the night. He remembered Draco making him promise -- several times, he thought -- not to come down to the train in the morning. He remembered Draco commanding "kill it," when Harry evaluated what was left in the bottle of cognac. He had an isolated image of lying on his back with his head in Draco's lap, ranting about something while Draco smiled absently down at him. He remembered standing, realizing he could barely walk, and crashing into something when he tried to leave the Chamber. Mostly he remembered the horribly queasy feeling from Draco levitating him through the corridors. After that, he spent a long time throwing up in the Gryffindor boys' bathroom, and some time sleeping on the soothingly cool floor between bouts. Most of that was mercifully dim.

The first other person into the bathroom slammed the door loudly, causing Harry to lurch from a semi-stupor to full waking. His stomach lurched also, and yet more thin liquid came up. Harry choked. "Hell."

"Harry?" the new arrival questioned from near the sinks. It was Ron.

"Sod off," Harry called, and threw up again. He thought that might be the last of it. He was beginning to feel almost sober, he thought.

"Are you okay? Should I get Pomfrey?"

"No!" Harry shouted. He tried to get his mouth to form precise words. "I'm bloody pissed," he said, almost distinctly. Close enough. "I don' wanna spend all holiday stuck in Gryffidor," he added, less clearly.

Ron was quiet for a moment. "Are you okay?" he asked again.

"Fine. Go 'way and lemme be sick in peace."

"I need to use the toilet and wash my face," Ron said apologetically. He did it quickly, and was out.

A few minutes later, Harry decided he was ready to wash up as well. He slunk upstairs, glad to discover it was early enough that most people were still asleep. Of his roommates, only Ron was awake. Harry dropped his fine clothes on the floor and crawled into bed without attempting pajamas.

"You over it, mate?" Ron asked.

"A day's sleep, and I'll be fine," Harry mumbled. "Happy bunnies an' all." He fell asleep before Ron could reply.

Harry was woken, far too soon, by Seamus whacking him over the head with a pillow.

"Wha?"

"Stop that snoring, you lout!" Seamus ordered. "We're trying to pack!"

Harry grabbed his robe and returned to the toilets. After several handfuls of water, using the toilet, and washing his face twice, he felt a bit better. He decided he was smelly, but not alert enough to shower. He went back to the room, announced he was never, ever going to do this again, and got back into bed.

"Get up, Harry!" Ron insisted, with a token tug on Harry's bedspread. "The train leaves in half an hour."

"I'm not on it."

"Hermione will expect a goodbye."

Harry held tightly to the covers. "I promised Draco I wouldn't be there. I'll see Hermione next week. She'll understand."

"Come down to the common room and say goodbye, then."

"Ron," Harry growled, "I do not need to say goodbye to Hermione. Honestly, I would rather she could continue to consider 'Harry was stinking drunk' an expression. Now shut up and let me sleep before I hex you into oblivion."